first day of water aerobics

I knew it when I woke up today... 6 more days of school and, yippee!, first day of water aerobics for the summer.

After all the unseasonably cool weather we've had, I have been really worried about the pool temperature, but today my fears were laid to rest.

When I pedaled up to the pool there were already four people in the water belly-button deep. We all know the test is to get your armpits in... if you can do that and survive you will do fine. I decided my best tactic was to go right in... to just get it over with... and surprise, surprise... it wasn't bad at all.

We did all the things I like, jogging in the water, working our arms until they felt like they would drop off. I wore water shoes for the first time... lace up kind, the laces kept coming untied... and my new bargain basement suit kept riding up in the rear. But oooo, it felt good to move through the water, to be in the water outside, not in some indoor pool... and it was great to see people I haven't seen since September.

Three days a week from now until sometime in September... Last year, after the first month I had the best arms I had had in years... this year I am in better shape to begin with, so need to find ways to work myself a little harder. The shoes create some additional resistance for my legs and I have these foam cuffs I will begin to wear to create resistance for my arms.

Stephanie says invite your friends, so consider yourselves invited, you will not be disappointed.

balancing act

There is a place on the ridge-line trail at the Grand Canyon where you round a corner and there are hundreds of stacks of rocks. It is a holy place and holds an energy that is palatable.

I like rocks. That, I think, is a bit of an understatement. I bring them from my hikes, my travels. I can tell you which ones came from the Alsek River in Alaska, or the upper Salmon in Idaho. I know the ones from the Oregon coast line and the one my friend Steve told me looked like a cow pie that I picked up on a trail near Seven Springs, just north and east of the city.

Not all of them are stackable, but the ones that are, I take the time to work with. To get them to balance, to act as a lightening rod for for whatever positive force is out there looking for a safe passage into the good cool earth. There is a beauty in this stack. The rock on top from Idaho, the thin one, third from the top, from Alaska (when you hold it to the light it has wave lines of iridescence).

I've had a quiet weekend. Like these rocks, I feel precariously stacked.

green

it is never this shade of green here... this cool, roll around in it, shade of green. this sure to give you a big grass stain shade of green... not even on the manicured golf courses where the water and fertilizer are sprinkled liberally does it get to be this shade.

sometimes I really miss green. I had a patch of grass, and I mean a patch... about a 4'x4' patch outside my kitchen window. I loved to look at it... it was so small I cut it with kitchen shears... but it never thrived, and after a few years I gave it up.

today it is cloudy and cooler... and everything in me is trying to drink it up, to find a place to save it... but it has been warm and very dry and the color green here is faded, grayed out to an olive... in fact most of the green is gone by now.

it's this green in Idaho, for a good long while, before July sets in... and even then, it stays this green where it is watered.

there are probably ants in this grass and if I sat in it they would bite me. still, still I'd like to sink my face into it, feel it on the back of my neck and behind my knees.

sometimes I just sit and stare

It is my gym night... I guess I am not going.

This is the mind numbing time of the year, when everything just begins to fold in on itself and I lose track of time, bills, my last meal. I'm exhausted. My legs hurt. The bones in my feet hurt. I think I have something going on with one of my teeth. I could go on, but you get the picture.

I haven't signed my contract. It is in the top right drawer of my desk at work. I have until May 27. Why am I waiting? I plan on teaching next year. But every time I pull it out, I just check the deadline date and the salary and then fold it up and tuck it away. I think I am resistant... I want to give God an opportunity to hand me something wonderful in it's place. I should sign the danged thing. I should do it tomorrow.

When my last class of the day walks out the door, I just go to my desk and sit, letting everything go blank for a moment or two before I stand again to put away class bins, pull dried art from the racks, wash the brushes the way they are supposed to be washed.

For the last two days I have worn sensible shoes(you spell that UGLY). They do help, but I am so far gone, the aid is only marginal.

On the up side, I adore the kindergartners, and the 8th graders this rotation are so completely brainless and inept they remind me of lab puppies, all that exuberance locked in these big bodies. Even they make me smile.

A long weekend is coming. Then 7 more days. I can make that long.

mission accomplished

I finished it last night. This purse of cotton-linen Rowan yarn. Just a few mistakes, enough to let the spirit of the bag move in and out. Size? 12x10. (no flash)

Lined, too. Actually a requirement. The stitches are too loose and the yarn too fragile to handle unlined. Even included a pocket for my lip gloss or cell phone to sit in.

Up-close look at the stitches... one row is k2,p2.. the next row is just k. I like how this looks, how it changes the texture of the piece... the top is knit a row, purl a row. I think I might try this in a vest I'd like to make of odd'n'end wools I have left over.

This is the bag using the flash. I think this color is a little truer. Notice the handles... I used up the green at one end of both of the handles... This was not part of the pattern plan, but it suited me to use at least one of the colors up, leaving no extra to try to work into yet another project.

Anyway, I am quite pleased with the final product and already thinking about what to do next.

Read an interview last night with artist Larkin Jean Van Horn where she said she needed to "clear the path" before she was ready for the new project. This really resonated with me. I think I will go through my yarn, touch it all, regroup and gather... then maybe I will be ready for the next piece to begin.

In fact, I think this clearing the path way is what, at least I, need to do to move forward in almost every avenue of my life.

dog project

I am feeling like a bad dog mom.

I had a schnauzer lined up... she was a rescue dog...her pictures were less than lovely and her bio told me she was older than I cared for, was used to sleeping on the bed, allergic to corn, and barked at cats. All things that left me feeling a bit uneasy, but I told myself to just say yes to this dog.

The day before I got her, I got a call that told me she had been scratched up, presumably by the German Shepard's she'd been rooming with in the month since her owner passed away and that they had to muzzle her to clip her. I was told how to handle her so as to not get bit, and asked if I still wanted her, this traumatized dog. Still ignoring little warning lights, I said said yes.

Yesterday I picked her up. Today I sent her back. I realized pretty quick that this was not the dog for me.

A few weeks ago, while hiking one of the in-town trails I met two little dogs, one a tiny schnauzer-type, the other a little black mop, tumbling along joyfully at the ends of their leashes. They nearly fell over themselves wanting a pat, a little ear scratch, attention of any kind. Oooo, I wanted a happy little bundle of love just like that.

I had asked for an even tempered dog, easy-going, friendly. I asked for a dog with no medical problems. I had asked for a dog that was younger. I should have said no, I know that now.

She came with pills... something I was not told before hand. She had a possible funky ear thing going on and needed to see a vet asap. She growled, she jumped, snarled and snapped at me this morning, and this afternoon she became very aggressive over a curious cat. And I think her injuries went beyond the scratches she had.

I'm not that kind of pet mom. I am not a person of infinite patience... or even a lot of patience... sometimes no patience at all. I know what I am capable of, dog relationship wise... and what I need are no complications. There were just too many complications when it was all said and done.

Still I feel a little "less-than" about the whole thing.

I think I would still like a dog, but I need to meet him/her first. I need to see if I feel a connection, a little bit of love beginning to develop.

Last night I hardly slept at all. Today I stressed about this dog all day, nearly dreading coming home, even after I had called the rescue lady and told her it wasn't going to work. And although I felt like I needed to apologize and/or justify when they came to get her, I felt immense relief the minute she was gone.

How do you do this? How do you find the dog you are supposed to have? My last one just jumped into the back seat of my car and grinned from ear to ear, determined to have me.

Can you have that kind of good luck twice?

mother's day-my house

Katie's favorite way to take a picture....

W. being 4.

Washing dishes is, like, THE family tradition.

Great Grandpa gets P. to sit by him.

me, Mom and the boys on the patio...

coming to silence

For the last few weeks I have been working my way into silence. In part this is a choice, in part it simply has been my lot. Some doors have closed and no others have opened to fill up my life with the white noise that lulls us into a kind of sleep.

Silence. At night when I return home from work. Silence. As I move through the weekends. No one, no thing to divert my attention. Only one conversation, the one in my head, to follow or ignore. I see the dishes after dinner and do them. No rush to go do something else. Just the dishes.

Mostly, this is nice. Mostly, I do not want to break my fast. Mostly, I want to be able to keep this beautiful stillness, this simplicity. I want to see the purples and the greens reflecting off the black beans. I want to smell the warm nutty fragrance of the brown rice cooking. I want the sound of this music to move through the threads of my body.

Part of me fears this, too. Part of me thinks I might be becoming a recluse, a weirdo, a hermit. Part of me has said, get a dog! and I will, in fact, I think I have. Part of me thinks this is way healthier than having ten cats.

I read the other day that having someone to kiss goodbye every morning when you headed out into the world increased your life expectancy by five years. I wonder if it matters how late in life you start, or how long ago it was when you stopped? I wonder if kissing a dog would count? Of course, if you knew me, you would know this probably won't happen. I have a lot of Lucy in me. My mouth and a dog's mouth? I don't think so.

Does silence mean I have to be alone? Does alone necessarily mean silence?

How do I negotiate this slow moving river? I feel like I am not at the helm at all, but drowsy, dangling my finger-tips in the current, enjoying the shifting light and wayward breezes. You know, I think the bigger question is should I be negotiating this river? No. Not now anyway. Right now I need a rest and in this quiet place, I am getting it.

Anyway, in a couple of hours this guy will be coming over, and there goes all of Grandma's serenity!

five I'm thankful for

1. The pain has gone away... as mysteriously as it came. One of the weird things about being well into my 50's are these pains. Maybe they start from wearing the wrong shoes, or bending over in a very normal way, or turning around too fast... I don't even know for sure what happens, but I will wake up in pain (I did Tuesday) and it will seem to be everywhere in my body and then in 24 to 36 hours it is all but gone. Why is that? Anyway it was here and now it is gone and I feel like a whole person again.
2. The third grade class is done with their robots... we had a little art walk and voted for the most unique, funniest, best construction... it was neat... and I am thankful it is over - kind of a chaotic,free-for-all project - I am thankful because tomorrow they will color. Ahhhh, peace!
3. This cool glass of water... after a couple days of not drinking enough water, today I began to drink again and this water is so sweet and delicious I do not understand why I simply don't drink enough sometimes... maybe that was why I was in pain.
4. This soft shroud of silence I wrap around myself lately. Wonderful things happen here.
5. Cool breezes in May. Yesterday it was 80, today it just barely reached 90. This kind of cool in May needs to be savored, because when it is gone, it will be gone for a long, long time.

birthday

Will, my son-in-law had his 30th birthday party today... he got a whoopie cushion from his sons... I really do not think the boys will ever let him play with it.

They had all gone to play dodge-ball and then came to my daughter's house for food and cake

People closest to Katie, Gene and Judy, came to wish Will a happy day.

The made from scratch cake was an artistic masterpiece. It was supposed to be a pirate ship, but it split apart, so it became a pirate ship that had been bombed... see the little pirate holding the candle and all the broken masts?

They had to light the candle several times so we could sing happy birthday and each child could blow the candle out.

The kids then went for the cup cakes... easier to eat and they were promised a "treasure" inside. Looks like pretty serious business.

P. will grow out of this stage, right?

One of the pretty girls at the party. W. looked after her the entire time...

pleasant weather

mmmm..... cooler today and although the wind still blows it feels like it is blowing cleaner air around..

I have these flowers on my patio. I have no idea what they are called, but I love the color... vividly blue violet and the leaves are a deep dark green... not Arizona colors (orange, yellow, red, olive) so that is probably why I like them so much... there is something alpine lake about them, something cool and deep, something refreshing.

I sat on my patio after coming home from the gym and watched the flowers, the different shades of green, the hummingbird feeding off the mesquite flowers (too much bounty for him to worry much about my hummingbird feeder) and a swirl of little insects near my gate. On closer investigation I decided what I was witnessing was a "hatch" since they seemed to be swarming on the other side of the gate as well.

I learned about hatches from fly fishing... a good time to catch fish is during a hatch, if you have the right lure. But no fish here and the only hungry birds like nector, not bugs... so these little fellows have a chance to grow and reap distruction as they eat their way to maturity.